Page 13 of A Scottish Lighthouse Escape

‘Oh, believe me, I’ve mulled it over so much I thought my head was about to explode.’

There was a desperate rasp. ‘But we’re on the verge of signing a new contract with Lola, and you said you’d started writing a new book. Listen, take all the time you need after signing the contract and we can work on…’

My frustration fired up. ‘The light has gone out, Mia. I don’t want to do it anymore.’

She let out a frantic squeak but I pushed on. ‘I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but I have to do what’s right. No more falsehoods.’

‘What falsehood?’ Her tone became more conciliatory. ‘Listen to me. What Joe did had nothing to do with you. He was the one who chose to have an affair.’

I swallowed and clamped my eyes shut.

‘But your readers can’t get enough of your stories. It’s an escape for them.’

‘Precisely. It’s not real. What I write are fairytales. I’ve made my money from something that doesn’t exist and I don’t want to do it anymore.’

‘But… But…’ Mia’s desperation seeped down the line. ‘But it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do.’ She puffed out frustrated air. ‘Rosie, take some more time to think this over, okay? I know Lola’s keen to get you to sign on the dotted line, but I’ll speak to her. Lay everything out. Then after you have taken some more time, we can talk again and iron out the contract.’

I shook my head, even though Mia couldn’t see me. ‘I don’t need any more time to think it over. I know what I’m doing.’

‘So, what are you intending to do if you’re giving up being an author?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ I conceded. ‘I’ll have to see what the future holds.’

The future.

It was stretching out in front of me, like this endless black hole that was swallowing me up and there was no light at the end of it.

My idea had been to get my next book written and then suggest to Joe we try for a baby.

I could hear Mia shuffling some papers around on her desk. ‘What am I going to tell Lola? She and Jarred Roberts are going to be speechless over this. You’re one of their highest-earning authors!’

‘Just tell her the truth.’

Mia let out a defeated sigh. ‘Yeah, that’ll do it.’

I eyed the cloud-clotted sky. ‘And it’s not like you don’t have a stable of other successful authors, Mia. That goes for Lola, too. Anyone would think I was the only writer around.’

Mia started to protest, but I steeled myself. ‘I’ll set off again now, okay? Can you update Lola for me please. I really don’t want to have to talk to a lot of people at the moment.’ I hesitated. ‘Any calls from the Press?’

‘A couple of journalists have rung, asking what your future plans are and how you’re doing.’ Mia’s voice softened. ‘But don’t you worry about any of that. We’re more than capable of handling all that on your behalf.’

Her kindness made me want to weep again. ‘Thanks. I’ll be in touch again soon. Take care. Bye.’

I ended the call.

I tried not to dwell on what Lola would say when Mia dropped the bombshell that I wouldn’t be writing again. Oh, they’d probably think I was just grieving. Mia would say to Lola to let me sound off, advise her to make murmuring, reassuring noises at me while I did and then tell me that they’d give me however long I needed to get my writing back on track.

But they could say all that in neon lights, on printed T-shirts and hire out Wembley Stadium with a marching band. It was no good.

I forced my eyes open.

Cars were drifting backwards and forwards out of the parking spaces. Small children were squealing at their parents that they needed the bathroom.

I decided I’d had enough of trying to explain myself for now and switched my mobile off again. I dropped it back inside my bag on the passenger seat and stretched my arm over to pat Bronte. She’d demolished her chew stick and was sitting upright on her blanket, like one of those Chinese waving cat ornaments. ‘Okay, poppet,’ I sighed, switching the key in the ignition. ‘Time to hit the road again.’

* * *

Durham, Newcastle, Edinburgh; they all zipped past in a cacophony of houses, retail parks, dew-tipped fields, the Angel of the North, tantalising glimpses of Edinburgh Castle and its stunning, craggy, grey stone façade, before Bronte and I finally reached Rowan Bay.